And so that was that. The Fated seven had found each other and were now headed towards a common goal. The friendships shared amongst each other grew over time, each not feeling alone in their goals or trials like they had before.
It is strange to me that suddenly, I do not feel alone anymore. You are the closest thing I have for a friend. I can talk openly without worrying about losing your attentiveness to me. Even when I look in the mirror, I cannot be open and honest with the person I see there. I gained all the power and security I ever wanted, but what was the price? I cannot look in the mirror without flinching and a paralyzed man magically trapped in a pocket dimension is my only friend.
But in spite of the burning, I feel some sort of peace for the first time since I remember. I do not understand it. The fire is there, licking at my soul, and yet because I have a friend, a friend that I am bearing the pain for, I feel peace. It is an odd feeling, to be in so much pain, and yet to have a delicious taste of something below it. None of my questions are answered, but for the first time since I began speaking to you, it seems as though they do not matter as much as they did.
But is that what I want? To let go of my questions, to stop chasing them? Then what? I am unsure.
One more important thing happened just a couple of nights later. I will share this with you, and then I will go and think on what has happened today. Plus, I feel more exhausted than I have in a very long time.
Two days of travel, with D’Artegenon guiding them off the road before they could be seen, had allowed them to slowly get to know the kobold and bugbear a little more. Both were earnest, but as they felt more accepted, they began to join conversations a little more. Mist and the dog entered an uneasy truce after the first day where the dog had delightedly chased the cat on and off the road, until she had leaped into Wyck’s backpack and hid there, hissing at every excited bark requesting more play time. Eventually, the dog stopped chasing her and Mist crept out, avoiding the dog where possible and swiping with a hiss when the black snout came too close.
The dragon had not been seen again, though everyone still worriedly looked into the air on a regular basis. I knew she was furious at having lost the trail, and had gone to ground, searching through other, though futile, means, but they didn’t know when she was going to turn up again.
After the second day of travel, they set up camp, planning on reaching Surbroar the next day. They were still getting used to each other at this point, with each trying to figure out where they fit in the larger scheme, both in the events they found themselves in and the interpersonal dynamics created by being in close proximity to others.
As was typical, once they found a suitable place to camp off the road, the half-orc wandered off a little ways by himself, but he did not take Wyck with him this evening, which happened on occasion.